


Ladies' Night

by TheAndorianMiningConsortium



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Family, Humour, Klingons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:03:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAndorianMiningConsortium/pseuds/TheAndorianMiningConsortium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martok decides to drop in on his wife, thinking it will be a nice surprise for her. But he ends up just making an embarrassment of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies' Night

As he drew close to the homeworld, Martok couldn't help but feel a little relief. This wasn't a holiday, and he wasn't going to get much chance to relax - nor did he want to. He felt best when he could make himself useful, and relished the opportunity to work hard, and do his job. But... he couldn't deny that seeing Sirella again, if only for a few hours, would be a wonderful little reward for the time he'd spent, battling for his people, thus far.

He messaged Chancellor Gowron to let him know that he'd be entering the Great Hall soon, before transporting down to his own house. He would have just enough time to greet his wife, who would surely be pleasantly surprised to see him, and bestow a few kisses on her, before getting on with the official business of the day. Standing on the transporter, he tried to arranged himself into a handsome posture, head held high, then energized. He materialised in his own living room, completely unannounced. A smile lit his grizzled features. What a nice surprise this would be for his beloved!

As the room shimmered into existence around him, the scene that met his eye was one of complete unfamiliarity. He started, surprised. This _was_ his house, and it _was_ his own living room... but what were all these clothes doing lying haphazardly around the place? And where had all these ladies come from? The room was literally _filled_ with semi-naked Klingon ladies, and by the looks of it, this was no stripper party or pleasurable pursuit. Some had kegs of beer in their hands, others were stuffing their faces with food from the platter in the centre of the table, still more were lounging about lazily on the furniture, or trying on the clothes and sharing their opinions with each other – viciously shredding the garments that didn't meet with their approval and throwing them into the hearth.

Many of them were also speaking loudly and using rude and insulting language. Martok caught the words "my husband is such an idiot, do you know what he did today? He tried to do a piss, but missed the toilet, and it went on the floor!" and "my son is just as bad, he leaves a mess in the house and doesn't clean it up!" “Well, my husband's brain is made from targ shit! Let me tell you what _he_ did today!”- and so on.

Within a few seconds Martok realised that what he had stumbled onto some sort of 'ladies' only night', where, he understood, women would gather together to discuss, in great detail, just how awful their husbands, fathers and sons were.

Well. To be fair, he thought, they probably discussed other things as well. Like finances, and tampons, and other feminine things that he didn't have much clue about. The kind of stuff that was a mystery to men - stuff that he could only speculate on. But right at this moment, it so happened that  _men_ was what they were talking about. Funny. He'd always imagined that when women got together to discuss the men in their lives, it was to talk about how strong and handsome their husbands were... not how awful they were! Hmmm.

As his atoms solidified and the company began to notice him, Martok looked about himself sheepishly. This was absolutely the _last_ thing he wanted to walk in on!

Sirella was on the other side of the room. She had her back to him, and had not noticed his entrance over all the chatter. " _My_ husband," she said to one of her friends, "is getting so old and fat that it's a wonder he can do anything at all!" A loud communal cackle answered her. "Sometimes!" she continued, "I cut his toenails for him while he's asleep, because I don't think he can manage to bend down and do it for himself!"

Martok could think of nothing to say. He rather wished he could just disappear about now... but now that he thought about it, he supposed he deserved it, for showing up unannounced like this...

Sirella turned around, and then she saw him, and the smile dropped instantly from her face. "What," she demanded, "are _you_ doing here, Martok?"

Instinctively, Martok ducked.

The vase hit the wall behind him with a crash, then dropped to the floor. Laughter rang around.

He supposed he should have tried to explain that this was _his_ house, that he could show up unannounced whenever _he_ desired, and that his wife would just have to deal with it-- but somehow, being 'man of the house' suddenly did not seem such a great thing. He turned, and wordlessly, he tried to march toward the door, letting himself out as quickly and with as much dignity as he could.

The eruption of laughter that followed behind the door that he had tried, and failed, not to slam, told Martok that he had failed.


End file.
